


Does It Really Matter

by YamiAki96



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Gen, Guilt, Jock Dean, Nerd Castiel, Suicide, bullying(mentioned)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-02
Updated: 2014-05-02
Packaged: 2018-01-21 16:08:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1556270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YamiAki96/pseuds/YamiAki96
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One shot based off of "Does It Really Matter" by Theory Of A Deadman</p>
            </blockquote>





	Does It Really Matter

**Author's Note:**

> This sucks. Don't judge me.

“Dean, tell mom I’m going to be late, I’m walking Jess home.”

 

Dean nodded absentmindedly as his little brother passed by him.

 

“Sure thing, Sammy.” The younger Winchester threw him a look and stormed off to meet his girlfriend in front of the school. Dean laughed and put his earbuds in, turning AC/DC up loud and walking out of the school and into the sun.

 

The day had been perfect since he woke up that morning so he didn’t drive to school. He decided that he would drive to the lake after he got home, though. He was debating whether or not to invite Lisa Braden along when he ran into someone.

 

“I’m sorry, man.” Dean said, pulling the headphones from his ears.

 

“Don’t worry about it,” A gravelly voice responded. Dean recognized the other boy as Castiel Novak, the resident nerd and the first person in their school to come out. An act of bravery that caused him constant ridicule and bullying.

 

Dean kneeled down next to him and started to help him pick up the books he’d dropped when they collided.

 

“Damn, dude. Did you leave a book in the library?” Dean asked, seeing the large stack that they’d rebuilt.

 

“I assure you that these all belong to me,” Castiel said in strange tone, reaching for the whole stack.

 

“You want some help with those?”

 

“I am fine, thank you.”

 

“Oh, c’mon man. You live like three houses down from me. It’s least I can do.” With a sigh, Castiel took half the books into his arms and allowed Dean to carry the other.

 

“You like Vonnegut?” Dean asked, looking at the spines.

 

“Yes. He’s interesting,” The smaller boy said, pink tinting his cheeks.

 

“I think so, too. Sammy thinks he’s weird.” The two teens spent most of their walk debating over whether Slaughterhouse 5 or Cats Cradle was better.

 

“What are you doing this weekend?” Dean asked as they neared their street.

 

“Not much. You?”

 

“I’m going to see my grandparents. They live a town over.” Castiel nodded as the reached his front door. Dean wondered what it was like for the town religous nut to have a gay son, but he didn’t ask.

 

“Thank you for your help, Dean. All of it.” The dark haired teen took the books from Dean’s arms and disappeared up the stairs and into the house.

* * *

On Monday the whole school was required to report to the auditorium for an announcement. Dean reclined on one the higher rows, ready to get a nap in before his morning Bio class.

 

“Good morning, students, staff,” The awkward, mouse like principal, Mr. Shurely, said into a microphone. “I wish that this announcement was a good one, but unfortunately, I must deliver some bad news. On Friday night, your fellow student, Castle Novak, took his own life.”

 

Dean sat up, in shock.

 

He’d just seen Cas. Just walked him home and heard him laugh and argue. Seen him smile and roll his eyes. Shurley must have had the wrong name. Cas would stand up any second and let him know.

 

But he didn’t.

 

“I know that this is a shock and a terrible tragedy to our school and town. If any of you need to talk to someone, my wife, Ms. Rosen, is available in the office for grief counselling, thank you.”

 

As everyone stood and started toward their classes, gossiping already, Dean didn’t move. He sat, rooted to the spot, letting everything sink in.

 

Castiel was dead. Had taken his own life. Dean wondered how bad the bullying must have been, how much he didn’t see, to make it him do such a thing.

 

“Dean?” Mr. Shurley said, looking up at him from the gym floor. “Are you-”

 

“I’m gonna be sick.” Dean didn’t realized he’d spoken the words until suddenly there was a trash can in front of him. He grabbed it and was violently ill.

 

“Castiel,” He gasped, tears burning his eyes and bile burning his throat. “His name was Castiel.”

 

“Castiel,” The principal repeated, patting Dean’s back awkwardly.

 

“He was named after an angel.”

* * *

Dean had gone home early that day, unable to stop shaking.

 

He spent the day in the living room, his mom petting his hair as he cried.

 

“It’s not your fault honey.” She said.

 

“I was the last one that saw him, Mom. I should of done something.”

 

“You didn’t know.”

 

I should have. Dean thought. He should have seen that Cas wasn’t okay. Should have asked if was okay.

 

“Things have to change, Mom.” He murmured.

 

Mary had simply kissed his forehead and started humming Hey Jude.

* * *

When Dean woke up, he was in his bed. He wondered how he’d gotten there. He hadn’t woken up, but he couldn’t imagine John carrying his seventeen year old son to bed either.

 

Even though the clock read four am, Dean climbed out of bed and turned his lamp on. He slid into his desk chair and dropped face into hands.

 

I’ve got to do something. He thought. I can’t let this happen again.

 

He pulled a piece of paper from a drawer and began making a plan.

* * *

Dean walked into school, prepared to deliver a speech to principal Shurley, but something else caught his attention. A kid was emptying his books into Castiel’s locker.

 

“Hey, what’re you doing?” Dean demanded, walking up him.

 

“I’m putting my stuff away.” The kid stated, annoyed.

 

“This isn’t your locker.”

 

“It is now.”

 

“He hasn’t even been dead a week!” Dean said.

 

“So? Nobody cared about that freak anyway.” Before Dean could process what he was doing the kid was laying on the floor with a bloody nose and he was being dragged to the principal’s office.

 

“Dean,” Principal Shurley said, with a sigh after the teacher explained what happened.

 

“He hasn’t been dead a week and you’re just giving his stuff away. His body isn’t even in the ground!” Chuck waited, looking away politely while Dean cried again.

 

Instead of being kicked out, Dean had to go see the grief counselor during study hall.

* * *

Becky was a little crazy, but Dean liked her okay.

 

She started their first session that day by giving him soda and cookies and letting him relax a bit.

 

“Did you know Castiel well?” She asked. Dean looked up when she said his name right. She smiled. “I’d been seeing him a few times a week.”

 

“No. I didn’t know him. I hadn’t talked to him since middle school, but I ran into him on Friday. I helped him carry his books home.” Dean ran a hand through his short hair. “And now I just can’t stop crying and I feel sick all the time.”

 

“You feel guilty,” Becky said. “You don’t know why you didn’t see it.”

 

“Yeah,” Dean mumbled. “That’s about it.” He was surprised when she leaned forward and grabbed his hand.

 

“It’s not your fault. No one saw it coming.” Dean nodded, but didn’t really believe her.

 

“He’s being buried tomorrow. Would you like to come with me? I’m sure his family would appreciate it.” Dean nodded.

* * *

It was overcast when Becky picked him up in her little silver car the next day. She wore a nice black dress. Dean wore dark slacks and a button up shirt.They didn’t talk during the short drive to the cemetery.

 

There weren’t a lot of people at the church. Cas’s parents and some others that Dean assumed were his siblings stood up front, older people fawning over them, and a few kids his age were sitting on a bench towards the back. Becky sat behind them.

 

They introduced themselves as Meg, Alfie, and Balthazar. Balthazar started when Dean introduced himself, then abruptly turned around. Meg helpfully pointed out who was who to Dean while Becky talked to Cas’s family.

 

Finally, everyone sat down and a priest took to the pulpit. The service was nice. The sermon was good, Cas’s friends and siblings told stories, then came the burial.

 

Dean stood awkwardly in the back while the priest talked about dust returning to dust, until someone nudged him.

 

Balthazar was walking toward a large group of trees in the middle of the cemetery. Dean looked around, then followed.

 

When he arrived, Balthazar was lighting a cigarette, leaning against a tree.

 

“You want one?” He asked, french accent lilting his words. Dean shook his head.

 

“How’d you know him?”

 

“I bumped into him that Friday. Walked him home. I didn’t really… we weren’t friends.”

 

Balthazar reached into his suit jacket and pulled out an envelope.

 

“Thirteen years I had with the little freak and here you only knew him for five minutes.” He shook his head with a small laugh and held the letter out. Dean’s name was printed across the front. He took it, eyes burning.

 

He and Balthazar returned to the gravesite unnoticed.

* * *

_Dean,_

_I don’t know why I am writing to you. You don’t even know me. But there was always something about you that made me feel… something. I always admired the way you would never let your friends or anyone else bully someone. The way you helped everyone, whether you knew them or not. Despite this, I was always afraid to talk to you. I just disappeared into the crowd._

_I’ve always wanted to be able to disappear. When my brothers were fighting or when my father was looking down on me because of my sexuality. When your teammates bullied me when you weren’t there. But those times weren’t your fault._

_I know you’re wondering why I am doing this. I just can’t fight anymore. Not the bullies, not my family, not my depression. I’m giving up because I don’t know what else to do._

_Forgive me,_

_Castiel_

* * *

“I want to do something,” Dean said one day, a few months after Castiel’s burial. Becky looked up from her notepad, where she had doodling while waiting for Dean to start.

 

“What?”

 

“I want to do something. For kids like Cas. I want them to have somewhere to go besides here. People like them to talk to or something.” Becky smiled.

 

“I was hoping you’d say something like that,” She handed him some papers from her desk.

 

“Gay Straight Alliance? I’m not-”

 

“Gay Straight Alliance, Dean.” She said. “I’ve been trying to get one started for years. Castiel was the first openly gay student, but he turned me down. He said he didn’t know enough people. But you’re so popular, Dean. You might get a larger crowd.”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“Just think about it?”

 

“Yeah okay?” He shoved the papers into his gym bag and left her office.

* * *

When he got home that night, Dean started doing research on GSA and how if helped other high schoolers.

 

“What are you looking at?” He nearly jumped out of his skin when Sam’s voice sounded from behind him.

 

“Jesus, Sam. Knock.” The younger Winchester rolled his eyes and leaned towards the computer.

 

“Are you trying to start a GSA?”

 

“I don’t know. Mrs. Rosen wants me too.”

 

“I’d join. I know some other kids that would, too.”

 

“Really?” Sam nodded. Dean pulled the paper out of his desk drawer and handed it to his brother.

 

“I’d been thinking of starting one before. Right after Cas… I didn’t know that there was a GSA thing already though.” Sam looked up from his speech with a smile.

 

“You should do this, Dean. You’d have members and an adviser. It’d be fun.”

* * *

Principal Shurley agreed to let Dean start a GSA with Becky’s help, but there was one stipulation.

 

“I have to announce it on the morning television announcements?”

 

“Yes, so that students know that you’re starting the club and when the meetings will start.”

 

“Can’t someone just make posters?”

 

“Dean,” Becky said. “I think that students seeing you talk about it will be more effective.”

 

“That’s what I’m worried about.”

* * *

“And now a special announcement.”

 

The lights felt incredibly bright and hot when the camera turned on Dean the next day.

 

“Uh, good morning. I’m Dean Winchester. I’d like to announce that the first meeting of the Gay Straight Alliance will be after school today in the library.”

 

He didn’t hear what the morning anchor said after that. He felt sick and hot and just wanted to get out of there.

 

When he walked down the halls he got a mixture of appreciative looks and people glaring.

 

“Hey, Winchester!” Gordon Walker called. “I didn’t know you were a faggot!”

 

“Shut up, Gordon.” Benny said. “Don’t make me kick your ass again.”

 

Gordon, remembering the time that he’d been bullying a freshman and Benny caught him, scampered off, throwing a “I didn’t know he was your boyfriend, Lafayette,” over his shoulder.

 

“Thanks, Benny.”

 

“No problem, Brother.” Benny smiled at him. “I’m proud of you. I’ll be there this afternoon.”

* * *

 

Dean was surprised at all of the people that showed up that afternoon.

 

Sam, Jess, Gabriel, Jo, Adam, Ash, Garth, Charlie, Benny, Anna, Ed, Harry, Corbett, Gilda, Kevin, Crowley, Meg, Ruby, and even Cas’ older brother Michael had signed in, but there were more that didn’t.

 

Becky gave a quick overview of what the club would be and how things would be run.

 

“I’d like to have two presidents, one gay and one straight to work together.”

 

“I think Dean should be the straight one,” Charlie said. “I mean, he started it all.”

 

“I second that,” Sam said.

 

“Anyone else?” Almost everyone raised their hands. Dean nodded when Becky asked if he wanted the position.

 

“I want to nominate Corbett as the gay president.” Ed said, placing a hand on his boyfriend’s.

 

“I don’t think I’d handle the position well, Ed.” Corbett said. “I think that Charlie would do a better job.”

 

Charlie, a cute redhead, agreed. Becky nodded at Dean, telling him it was time to read what he’d written the night before.

 

“I decided to start this club after what happened with Castiel,” Dean said. “I thought that if people had a safe place to go and talk that it might not happen again. I just wish that someone had done it sooner.” He glanced at Michael. “I’d like to dedicate this club and whatever we do to Cas’ memory. I don’t want anyone to forget him.”

 

Everyone clapped and started throwing out ideas of what they should do for fundraisers and advertising. By the end of the meeting they were having a bake sale and planning a “fun day” of some sort. People began filing out at four, animatedly discussing weekend plans.

 

“Dean,” Dean looked up at Michael.

 

The eldest Novak hid his grief well. You could only see it if you look directly into his eyes and only then if he let you. Like he was letting Dean now.

 

“What’s up?”

 

“I just wanted to thank you. For doing this, for giving this to Castiel.” Dean nodded.

 

“Yeah, no problem. I mean, he’s the reason-” Dean stopped abruptly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

 

“It’s okay, Dean.” Michael said. “It doesn’t hurt as badly now. I’ve…come to terms with him being gone.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Michael smiled.

 

“He admired you, you know. I think he might have even loved you a bit.” Dean watched him walk away, stunned.

* * *

Dean lit a candle and sat down on the damp grass.

 

“Hey, Cas,” He said, looking at all the flowers and the framed picture the were left at the teens grave.

 

“I don’t know why I’m here today because I’ve never been here before, but I think it’s something that your brother said. That it didn’t hurt as much. He was right. It still hurts, it always will, I think. But I don’t feel like bawling like a girl all the time now.

 

“I’m sorry that I never talked to you before that day. I should have. I should’ve congratulated you on coming out and invited you to watch Star Wars at my house. I should have been your friend. I should have…I _could_ have loved you, too. But I didn’t do any of that. I know that it doesn’t really matter now, but I want you to know that - even if we weren’t friends - you meant a lot to me and everyone else in GSA. Thank you, Cas.”

 

Dean sat there for a while, watching the flame flick back and forth. And when the wind blew, he could almost feel fingers in hair.


End file.
